


Holiday Baking on the Fifth

by ClowningArouning



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Abigail is a milf, Cannon typical dildo creation, Cunnilingus, F/F, Harrow hates food, Harrow the Ninth Spoilers (Locked Tomb Trilogy), Multi, Size queen gideon nav, Vaginal Fingering, unless that food is Abigail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28132581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClowningArouning/pseuds/ClowningArouning
Summary: The Ninth house necromancer and her cavalier are visiting Abigail over the holidays. Which holidays? Not important, but Abigail is baking and gets some help from the Ninth. She's a MILF, Harrow is thirsty, Gideon is also there.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus/Abigail Pent
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24
Collections: The Locked Tomb Holiday Smut Festival 2020





	Holiday Baking on the Fifth

**Author's Note:**

> For the TLT holiday smut prompt: Abigail and Gideon try to get Harrow to try holiday baking and participate in the baking process. Abigail encourages a very hesitant Harrow to lick icing off her finger. Harrow discovers her mommy kink.
> 
> The first work I've ever published, hope you enjoy reading it. At least a bit.

"That looks disgusting."

"You are absolutely wrong." 

And yet, despite what Gideon Nav thought of Harrowhark's tastes, the shortbread cookie batter continued to look disgusting. 

It looked like a light coloured glob of softened adipose tissue. Like pus that had firmed in a capsule under the flesh of an infected ingrown hair. Like a mound of maggots that all formed together into one larger, more granular maggot. She was not going to eat that dough, and Gideon Nav was not about to sway her into it.

Abigail, however....

"I believe, in order to properly make judgments, we need to bake the batter into cookies fully." Abigail said, giving Harrow an encouraging smile that said ‘it’s ok if you don’t eat any, but trying new things is always good.’ Harrow hated that a simple phrase and a smile in her direction was enough to have Reverend Daughter’s cold heart thaw ever so slightly. The older woman’s voice wasn't anything special, if Harrow was being honest, but Abigail had a way of making everything she spoke about seem much less daunting. Even the thought of eating mounds of dough akin to pale flesh kneaded with sand seemed less horrible when it was Abigail suggesting it.

The fifth house necromancer had been baking all morning in the small kitchen of her 5th house home. The ninth necromancer and her cavalier had been invited over for some kind of ‘Holiday Festivities’. It seemed frivolous and silly but when Harrow had mentioned to Magnus that they had no such celebrations at the Ninth House, he seemed almost offended. Declining their invitation did not seem like an option, not once Abigail had doubled down with her compelling words and sickly sweet smile. 

Harrow had woken up early and sat at the counter as Abigail had worked on what she called 'Holiday Baking'. It was something she did every year when the sun only gave them a few hours of light. "Nothing like processed sugar and necro-made butter to lift the spirits, right?" she had said and Harrow had nodded because she supposed that didn't sound so terrible, at least not when Abigail Pent said it.

That is about when Gideon had graced them with her presence. 

Harrow’s cavalier had stumbled in, bed headed and half lidded. She was sporting the completely disgraceful fleecy pyjama pants Magnus had lent her. They were the only pair in the whole household that her muscles wouldn't rip through. But they also had little creatures called ‘bears’ on them. Their anatomy made no sense. If their heads were that much bigger than their bodys they would surely topple over, snapping their necks and leaving them in a paralyzed heap. The fleecy bears were not the only thing defying reality, however, Gideon’s torso was half covered in her own tight black tank top. The fabric defied all laws of musculature by not exploding off her body every time she flexed, which was frequent.

"What smells amazing?" The beef cake asked before so much as a good morning. Harrow had blocked off the sensory nerves in her nose hours ago. She would occasionally have to block off these nerves while preparing a body for burial back on the ninth. She loved her 9th house brethren, but they often had unsavory odors to them, especially post mortem. The smell in Abigail’s kitchen did not smell like the bloating body of a few days deceased geriatric found kneeling at the edge of their cot after what everyone assumed was a week long seclusion (Harrow really needed to set up a daily check in protocol for everyone over 70 years old, which was pretty much everyone on the 9th. Or perhaps a buddy system.). No. The smells in Abigail’s kitchen hung in the air around them like gaseous sucrose. It clung to the hairs on Harrow’s body and made her feel an uncomfortable warmth in her chest cavity. It was unbearable, and Harrow refused to deal, thus, the cutting off of the olfactory nerves. 

"The Gingerbread people are just cooling now." Abigail told Gideon, motioning over to a rack of deep brown cookies in the shapes of undecomposed corpses littered with sparkling geodes of sugar. "Would you like one?" That question did not need asking. Gideon was already by the cookies, looking for whichever one looked the best. Well, no, she was obviously just going to pick the biggest cookie, all other aesthetics overlooked by her yellow, gluttonous eyes. 

That’s how the morning went after Gideon joined. Abigail baked, Gideon taste tested and Harrow wondered how she had let the brute make Harrow's cozy kitchen duo into a claustrophobic kitchen threesome. She frowned at herself for thinking the word threesome. It had been an innocent word she had used before but then Gideon had to ruin it by showing her a vid of what a threesome meant when you typed it into certain, cursed search engines that Harrow only noted so she would never be fooled into seeing such vids ever again.

Abigail had Gideon scoop the latest batter onto the sheet pans while she washed the other dishes. Gideon's batter scooping form was as obnoxiously lousy as Harrow had expected. "Those cookies will be far too large." Harrow told her as she spooned out what should have been one tablespoon but was actually much more like three tablespoons. 

"They'll cook the same." Gideon retorted, unbothered by the tiny necromancers concerns. Harrow knew Gideon was dumb and reckless, but certainly she could see that a larger cookie made the recipes cook time inaccurate, which would endanger the final product's quality. Not that Harrow cared about the cookie quality for herself, she wasn’t the one who would eat them, but she did not want the Fifth’s greatest necromancer to think that Harrow’s cavalier was incapable of following basic instructions. How would that reflect on her? 

"Have you not been watching Abigail?" She asked. Harrow realized very quickly that that question was one she would regret. Gideon looked up from her heaping spoonful of dough to smirk at Harrow. That was a bad sign. 

"Haven't been watching her as much as you have." Harrow was grateful for her thick face paint as she felt the heat flair across her cheeks and nose. She only hoped it wouldn't reach her ears and betray her. 

"Don't be ridiculous!" She said too loud and too fast. "I am watching only an appropriate amount!"

"Appropriate for someone dying of thirst, maybe." Gideon said, horrid smirk on her horrid face. 

"I am not at all parched." Harrow insisted, making Gideon burst into laughter. The adept looked on in enraged horror at her cavalier. She was about to ask what about adequate hydration was so funny but Abigail, in her frilly maroon apron and her low, practical ponytail, came within 1 meter of Harrow. It was very close, for Harrow anyway. The spirit magician had collected, and was now presenting a bowl of what looked like fluffy, arterial blood to Harrow.

"Harrow, sweetie, try some of the icing won't you?" The older necromancer asked, causing Harrow’s heart to nearly explode at the frankly reckless use of pet names. The near cardiac arrest didn't keep her from pursing her lips in silent protest. "I don't want to bake all this and not have you like anything." 

Abigail took a glob of the frothed blood on one well cared for finger. Surely the older necromancer was using her abilities to keep her cuticles trimmed, or she had a rigorous nail routine. Harrow was trying to avoid thinking about how close the glob of icing, and the finger belonging to Abigail, were getting to her mouth. "Try a bit, and let me know what you think so I can make you something special." 

Harrow was far too busy looking between Abigail's brown eyes and the red icing to notice Gideon had stopped laughing. She was far too busy looking wide eyed at the exchange happening in front of her. ‘No way Nonagesimus would do it.’ The cavalier’s unnoticed expression was saying. ‘No way she would- oh my God, Nonagesimus would!’

Harrow was almost as surprised as Gideon when she parted her lips and allowed the icing and finger to cross the threshold of her teeth unbitten. It was like a glucose explosion on her taste buds as her long tongue wrapped around Abigail’s cuticuless finger tip. As the icing melted away and the dreadfully overpowering taste of sugar subsided, she began to taste Abigail herself. The frequent hand washing lent itself to a bitter, dish soap-y taste but under that was the salty, inky residue of the older necromancer’s years of note taking. No matter how many times she washed her hands, she could never get rid of all the pen nibs and ink smears that finger had rubbed over. It was intoxicating. Much better than the overwhelmingly singular taste of sweet that she had just tasted. 

Oh-oh no. She was moaning. The embarrassing sound that was escaping Harrow's throat made her finally come to her senses. She removed her tongue from around Abigail's finger, looking away, face and chest hot with a mix of shame and eroticism she would never admit she felt. 

"Holly shit." Gideon said, mouth hanging open.

"Language." Abigail scolded in a tone of voice that demanded respect through its sweetness, more than it’s sternness. Abigail wiped her finger on the hem of her apron, giving her undivided attention to the now stammering necromancer. "Did you like the icing Harrow?" The Harrow in question had absolutely no trust in herself in that moment. So she stayed completely still except for the bob of her throat as she swallowed all the sweet, inky saliva that had accumulated in her mouth, and the moving of her lips around words that she refused to form. Abigail smiled again, front teeth poking out from behind her soft lips and- wait no. Harrow looked away quickly in an attempt to not notice the softness of those lips. "Well you think about it." Abigail said finally before scooping another glob of icing, this time with two fingers and going to invade the still shocked Gideon's personal space. "How about you, dear, would you like to try?"

Gideon was much faster and more eager to get her mouth on the icing, or on Abigail, it wasn't very clear.

Harrow’s mouth dried up seeing how Gideon's mouth worked around Abigail's fingers. Gideon was clumsy but earnest, trying to get as much from the experience as she could. Again, the question remained, from the icing, or from Abigail. "How's it taste, Gideon?" Abigail asked smoothly. Gideon's response came in the form of a satisfied moan, lips still clamped around the fleshy utensils. 

Harrow stood, heat from her head and chest racing lower. "I believe I have to pee!" She said loudly, distracting the other two into looking away from each other and towards the small necromancer. Harrow didn't wait to see their expressions, she just rushed over to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She didn't actually have to pee. That was a clever ruse to get away from the source of her embarrassment. It startled her how hot her skin felt. She focused and forced the blood away from her skin with her necromancy. It was difficult, and not her specialty but she was determined to compose herself. She watched in the mirror as her ears and chest lost the deep pigment that had pooled. It was harder to do the same to the heat she felt between her legs. Harrow tried, but the image of Abigail feeding Gideon icing, how Abigail tasted, how she wished Abigail would feed her more icing... well no... she could do without the icing. What Harrow really wanted was to taste Abigail again. The tiny necromancer shut her eyes in a desperate attempt to block out the fantasy but that only made it worse.

Behind the lids of her eyes she could vividly imagine her own mouth over the skin of Abigail's neck. How did the older necromancer’s taste differ there? How about on her chest? Or lower? Harrow snapped her eyes open again and frantically scratched at her hair, urging her brain to stop with the flood of hormones. They listened. Thankfully.

Now more or less collected, she returned to the kitchen. Her excuse would seem conspicuous if she stayed in the bathroom too long. Thankfully the taste testing was over and done with, Gideon now smirking like a fool and Abigail over in the pantry, looking for something.

"How was peeing?" Gideon asked, being the smart ass Harrow was unfortunately very aware that she was. "Was it everything you ever dreamed it would be?" 

"Your ability to continuously create the most unsavory sentences I have ever had the displeasure of hearing is inspiring." Harrow responded, tone flat. She moved to sit back down, trying to play it cool. "Truly, I contemplate pulverizing my own mallei just to save myself from the torture of your verbiage." 

Gideon opened her mouth to retort with something no doubt idiotic but Abigail interrupted. "I am done all the baking." She announced and Harrow felt her heart sit heavy in her chest. Odd sensation as, after a quick scan, her heart's mass had not changed. "And because you both helped so much-'' That was a lie, the ninth being here probably made this process much more tedious for Abigail. It was a testament to the fifth’s manner that she would say such a thing "-I want to give you both a reward."

Harrow was again forcing her damn hormones back into their respective glands as her mind ran rampant with all the ideas she had. These ideas involved her being rewarded with a beautifully handwritten thank you card and perhaps an appreciative look from the rewarder. She could only be so lucky to have, even for a moment, her eyes locked in a gaze with the deep brown irises’ of Abigail Pent. 

What had Gideon done to her? Harrow’s mind was a filthy cesspool of inappropriate fantasies.

Abigail did not produce a beautiful letter, however. She instead produced two palm sized hooks of red and green. They were wrapped in the wasteful plastic the rest of the houses seemed so fond of. "A candy cane for my ardent sous-chef and consummate taste tester." She handed one of the small hooks to Gideon who took it gleefully, ripping open the plastic and breaking the hook with a snap before putting the pieces, whole, into her mouth. She took a sharp breath in as the flavours hit her tongue. 

"What is that?!" Gideon asked, delighted. Oh, what life would be if every new sensation sparked the joy it did in Gideon Nav. How overwhelmingly joyous and insufferably electrifying.

"Peppermint." Abigail said with her, at this point, signature smile. The woman took the few steps to enter within Harrow's bubble and held out the second red and green hook. Harrow looked between it and the woman offering it. "From what I've seen today," Abigail started. "I don't believe you will actually enjoy this reward. May I give it to your cavalier?" Harrow nodded yes. She had no use for the ‘peppermint’ hook, and so it was handed off to Gideon who gobbled it up like a frog who caught a particularly juicy fly. 

Abigail's eyes remained on Harrow, not with a look of appreciation though, with something more akin to playfulness. Perhaps Harrow was mistaken. She had not seen many people behave 'playfully' in her lifetime, perhaps Abigail merely had an itch she was too embarrassed to scratch in such company. 

"May I suggest a different reward?" She asked and Harrow nodded again. Curious what this was leading to. Was there a handwritten letter hidden in Abigail's apron after all?

Abigail moved her hands, but not towards a secret letter pocket. The older necromancer took Harrow's hands in hers. Perfectly manicured fingers holding up thin, boney ones. Harrow was once again very aware of how warm her face had become. Her ears were burning with confused alarm. What was happening? This was not what she had expected. 

"I would like to bestow upon you; a kiss." Abigail said as though this suggestion wasn't completely absurd. As though she was serious. As though she was actually offering to press her slightly chapped, pink lips onto Harrow.

"A-a what?!" Harrow managed, wide eyes fixed on Abigail's lips to make sure she wasn't just hearing things. "A kiss." Abigail repeated. The words matched the lips perfectly. There was no mistake. She was really offering lip contact in exchange for Harrow's company.

"O-oh-" Harrow should refuse, of course. How inappropriate of Abigail to even suggest such an act. "A kiss-" why was she not refusing? "I-I-" this was very abnormal. "Yes. That sounds agreeable." 

Harrow was aware that Gideon was saying 'woah' repeatedly but she could not, nor did she care, to actually pay attention. Abigail did not just place her lips onto Harrow's skin, Abigail pressed her whole mouth onto Harrow's mouth.

It was intoxicating.

The hormones she had been keeping locked away rioted, breaking free of her glands and flooding her system with feelings. Harrow, now encouraged by her traitorous endocrine system, pushed back into Abigail with her own mouth. She opened her lips and felt Abigail's teeth with her tongue. It was so odd, feeling something she was an expert in with a new, much wetter perspective.

Neither participant in the mouth contact was looking to end the sensation and so the kiss persisted past a simple 'thank you for your menial contribution to my holiday baking'. 

Abigail was practically sitting on Harrow now, bent over the small necromancer, trying to get closer still. The smaller necromancer wondered how close Abigail was wanting to get, her whole tongue was already inside Harrow's mouth. Not that Harrow minded at all, it gave her an answer to a question she shamefully pondered in the bathroom minutes earlier. Abigail tasted like wheat. Like the unrefined outcome of months of nurturing a seed into a plant. Like the final product millennia of human assisted evolution to create efficient alimentation. It was absolutely the best thing Harrow had ever tasted, and she was suddenly very hungry. 

Harrow moved her hands from their resting position and gave them a more active role. She placed them on Abigail's shoulders at first but that just felt awkward. She moved one of her manus to cradle the back of Abigail's neck, her fingers wrapped in the woman's softly curled hair and pushed their faces even closer together, pushed Abigail’s tongue further into Harrow’s mouth, pushed the taste even more potently into Harrow’s papilla. She absolutely refused to let go.

Unfortunately for Harrow, she has the upper body strength of a sponge. She could do nothing as Abigail pulled away, taking Harrow's hands in hers again and pointing those deep brown eyes into Harrow's black ones. She didn't say anything for a long moment, catching her breath and watching Harrow carefully until their staring contest ended with Abigail looking over to make eyes at Gideon instead. "Will you pick her up and place her on the counter, dear?" 

Gideon was apparently just as entranced by the spirit magician as Harrow was because, inconceivably, Harrow was being hoisted up by her cavalier.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you let me pick you up." Gideon whispered. 

Harrow's feet dangled under her as the burly swordsman held her aloft. She scrounged up all of the malice she kept in storage for occasions such as this, and attempted to sound serious even while suspended in the air like a doll being inspected by a horrifyingly muscular toy collector. "Counter. Now. Follow instructions." Thankfully her tone was enough to get Gideon to place her onto the counter top with only one more mocking comment.

"Thank you Gideon." Abigail said tenderly. Harrow watched in a haze of needy jealousy as Abigail pulled Gideon down gently by the shirt so they could lock lips. How she had managed to grab the skin tight garment clinging to Gideon’s torso was a mystery, but Abigail was clearly a very talented woman, that much was not up for debate. The display should have been revolting. Saliva and tongues and Gideon and moaning. But all it did was make Harrow warm all over her face and even warmer between her legs. She wanted to be kissed again. It wasn't fair that Gideon was getting all of the attention.

It was in this moment of childish pouting that Harrow witnessed Gideon do something most unbecoming of a Ninth house member. The woman placed both of her meaty hands on Abigail’s backside and squeezed. Harrow gasped, Abigail giggled and Gideon smirked.

The jacked cavalier lifted Abigail up easily, hands still on her ass and the necromancer wrapped her legs eagerly around the thick trunk that was Gideon's midsection. Their kiss continued, Abigail's joy was evident and Harrow found herself cursing her tiny frame. She would lift up Abigail, if she could. Harrow had to do something that could involve her in this union again. She got the idea. Tiny, boney fingers found and removed an earring from her left lobe and tossed it under Gideon's feet. The construct that burst out and collected Abigail safley into its grasp was mostly rib. Bones like a cage separated the two, making sure to catch Abigail as she fell away from Gideon. The older necromancer looked towards Harrow with curious delight in her eyes. Harrow flushed again at the attention, feeling validated by it but not actually having more of a plan now that she had separated the other two.

While Harrow had focused on keeping Abigail unscathed, Gideon had been discarded to the ground. She landed with a thump as the construct pushed her away while cradling Abigail. “Oof! You bone boning tyrant." Gideon started to get up to her feet. Her golden eyes trained on Harrow, looking like she always did when Harrow managed to get her riled up enough to fight. 

"You were acting in an improper manner towards Abigail." Harrow said, a complete lie. She would not admit to her jealousy. Not to Gideon Nav.

"Oh, ha! I'll show you improper." Gideon said reaching for Harrow's collar but missing when Harrow's construct tripped the larger woman. 

"Now, now." Abigail said calmly from her throne of bone. "There are better ways to get out aggression. Harrow, please, place me back on the ground." Harrow obliged, placing Abigail gently onto her feet again. "Thank you, my lovely Harrow. Now, my suggestion, and please, tell me if this is not something you would like to do, is to all choose one article of clothing that another has to remove." The words came out so casually from Abigail's mouth it gave Harrow a head rush. "How does that sound?" 

Unable to form proper words, Gideon and Harrow both nodded with differing intensities.

"Wonderful" Abigail purred as she moved to Gideon. "I want you to remove these, please, dear." She said, her perfect fingers snapped the waistband of the borrowed pajama pants that belonged to her husband. (Magnus is fine with all this by the way. Not really relevant, but worth knowing.) 

Gideon blushed for the first time then. The make outs were nothing compared to Abigail giving her bedroom eyes, apparently. She swallowed something that had gathered in her throat and nodded shyly. Abigail smiled and took a step back to give her space to remove the flannel garment. Gideon fumbled and almost tripped as she removed her own pants. Well toned ham hocks now fully visible up to her tight, black, Ninth issued under shorts. 

Harrow frowned. "I knew you had to be bigger than a large." 

Gideon, still blushing but now also back to smirking, flexed her legs and ass in the too tight shorts. "Yeah but check out how good my legs look in them." 

"Oh I am looking." Abigail mumble, causing Gideon to lose her composure again and deepen in colour further. "Now you tell Harrow what to remove."

Gideon got a troubling look on her face. An evil, traitorous, vengeful look that Harrow knew was going to be the end of her. 

"Panties." Gideon finally said. 

"What?" Harrow asked, shoulders raising like a cat. 

"Take off your panties." Gideon clarified. 

"How am I supposed to do that? I still have my pants on!" Harrow was getting more frazzled then she had hoped to be in front of Abigail. She must think Harrow was so immature. "That is not fair." She regrettably said. Harrow looked to Abigail for support.  
"Well, Harrow, You do not have to follow our game if you don't wish to." Abigail said, sounding a tinge disappointed. The woman hid it well, clearly not wanting to discourage Harrow from making her own decisions, but Harrow could tell there Abigail was disheartened, and it was horrible to hear. "I thought it would be fun, I did not mean to make you uncom-" 

Harrow fumbled and quickly undid her pants. She got the construct to yank them off from the ankles and she almost got jerked off the counter with how quickly it moved. She recomposed, and then went to remove her own, better fitting, under shorts. She was stopped by Abigail before she could get any further. The older woman’s hands secured Harrow’s hands gently. Harrow looked up to find herself falling into the Fifth necromancer’s entrancing brown eyes. 

"Harrow." Abigail said, voice even and caring and dizzyingly nurturing. "Please tell me what you want to do. Be honest." 

Harrow's heart was thudding loudly in her ears, her hands were getting sweaty. "I would like to remove my-" she paused, trying to will herself to say the word Gideon had used. "Panties." 

She said this because it was true, she did want to take them off, she just wished it had not been Gideon who had gotten her to remove them. 

Abigail seemed more than satisfied with that response and removed her hands from Harrow's. "Alright then, continue, please."

Abigail did not move to give Harrow more room to maneuver out of her under shorts. It was rather difficult to scooch them off of her legs when Abigail was within kicking range. Eventually, Abigail took pity on poor Harrow and helped out. She slipped her fingers through the leg holes and pulled them up. Harrow tipped back onto the counter as Abigail finally managed to get the damn things over her still socked feet. 

Then Harrow was half naked, laying with her legs up on the counter of the Fifth house's top necromancer's kitchen counter as her childhood rival and more recent involuntary cavalier stood as an onlooker. Harrow really should be hating this, but she was feeling far too filled with anticipation to have any room in her small body for shame, and for that, at least, she was grateful. 

Harrow's pants were folded and neatly placed on the counter next to her by Abigail. It was really very thoughtful of the woman. It was also very thoughtful of her run her perfect fingernails down the inside of Harrow's thigh. It gave the small necromancer a chill that ran from her feet all the way up to her nose. "Ah-A- Abigail." Harrow managed, a stickler for linearity and the completion of anything she starts. "I would like you to take off your dress." 

Abigail didn't stop moving her hands up and down the sensitive skin of Harrow's inner thigh. She smiled a smile that looks absolutely beautiful to Harrow. "Should I keep my apron on?" She asked Harrow, who nodded. Abigail didn't move to take off her dress though. She instead moved the fingers of one of her hands to run up and down Harrow's labia. Harrow gasped as Abigail's fingers explored and massaged. The older woman placed her thumb on Harrow's clit and rubbed little circles while her other fingers teased at the opening not far below. Why was she doing this? This was nice and all, but did Abigail not hear Harrow's instructions? She was supposed to be removing her dress. 

Almost as though Abigail could read Harrow's thoughts, she spoke. "Gideon, hun, would you unzip me?" Gideon, currently warm enough to cook an egg on her chest, fumbled eagerly to action. She tried several times to grip onto the tiny piece of metal with her, somehow just as buff as the rest of her, fingers before managing to unzip Abigail's dress. Gideon gasped an undignified gasp but Harrow couldn't comprehend why. The Ninth necromancer was trying to watch, but very distracted by the skillful way Abigail moved her hand. "Good, now pull it down off me, please." Abigail instructed. 

As Gideon pulled down Abigail's dress, Harrow realized what had been so worth a gasp. Apparently, the Fifth did not have issued under garments. Under Abigail's dress there was nothing but her peachy skin now fully uncovered and visible except for where the apron sat. The Fifth woman had larger breasts than either of the Ninth and they hung off her chest, barely contained by the top part of the apron. Somehow the sight of her nearly naked body made the sensation of Abigail's thumb on Harrow more intense. 

While Harrow was ogling the large amount of skin now available to be ogled, Abigail Pent let one of her fingers slip into Harrow, just slightly. She watched carefully for the younger necromancer’s reaction. Harrow tensed, the feeling unpleasantly tight. She had never put anything up there before and honestly, it didn’t seem great. Abigail seemed to realize her discomfort and so returned to teasing the area and focusing more on Harrow's clit. It pushed Harrow along into a sensation she could not keep quiet about. Every exhale became a little moan, every inhale a wanting rattle. Abigail seemed to love it. She leaned into kiss Harrow's neck. Her hot tongue dragging along the skin atop Harrow's clavicle caused a louder noise to escape the woman under her’s lips. It was needy and hungry and without shame.

The first time Harrow came was absolutely overwhelming. 

She wrapped her arms around Abigail and held the woman’s bare shoulders tightly. Harrow shuttered and clung and moaned for what felt like forever and not long enough all at once. Eventually, she did let go of Abigail only to fall back onto the counter, catching her breath and watching Abigail's lips curl up into a satisfied smile. 

"You sound amazing." Abigail said.

Harrow had no idea how to even begin to react to that. She didn't feel very pressured to answer though, as it was Abigail's turn to sound amazing. 

Abigail’s first moan was one of eagerness and it was soon followed by the sounds of lusty enjoyment. Harrow didn't understand what was happening until she remembered that, unfortunately, Gideon was also sharing in this experience. From her position under Abigail she could only see that her cavalier was leaning over, hands firmly on Abigail's hips, face buried in- well- it was so completely indecent where Gideon had her face buried and Harrow found it all unbelievably hot. 

Abigail made no attempt to move off of Harrow, pinning her onto the counter as she was eaten out by the hungry mouth of Gideon Nav. Trapped and turned on, Harrow's hands almost moved on their own. The appendages slid under Abigail's apron and she let the skin of her palms trail over the skin of Abigail's barely contained breasts. When her fingers found the older woman's nipples, Harrow was rewarded with a sudden clashing of mouths. Abigail gave Harrow an onslaught of kisses, ranging from feverish to ravenous. It was an exhilarating experience, improved when Gideon lifted Abigail's legs onto the counter, knees resting on either side of Harrow, ass higher to give Gideon a better angle. The noises that came from the act happening between Gideon's mouth and Abigail's cunt were depraved. Perverted. Reproable. Harrow desperately wished that could see what was making such sounds.

Now that Abigail had been hoisted up off of Harrow slightly, she used the extra space between them to reach her hand down and again, finger Harrow. This time, index and middle fingers worked her clit while the two of them made out. Harrow's head spun at the onslaught of sensations. The kisses only stopped when Abigail spoke breathily into Harrow's ear. "Your Cav isn't getting any attention." Harrow didn't see why that was her issue but then Abigail asked, with a tone that could have gotten Harrow to denounce her nunhood right then and there; "Would you please make Gideon come for me?" 

Maybe Abigail had wanted them all to change positions, but Harrow felt no desire to get up from her place under the Fifth necromancer. Instead, she moved one hand away from Abigail's chest and urged her construct to take a new form. The bones molded themselves into a cylindrical shape. Harrow manipulated the osseous matter to create a smooth, poreless, off white coloured penetrative device. The process wasn't difficult, per say, but it did expend energy that could have been used to explore Abigail’s mouth. Gideon really should be thankful.

Harrow gave the bone dildo a rudimentary piston system for thrusting and had it move to line up with Gideon's cunt. The revolting noises coming from Gideon's slurping stopped. Harrow saw her cavalier's head poke out from behind Abigail's tight, lips and chin dripping with liquid.

"You're not actually gonna fuck me wi-" 

Harrow then started to fuck Gideon with her hastily made self propelling bone dildo.

Gideon did not have many objections once the osseous member started moving in and out of her. She said several "Oh fuck"s peppered in with the characteristically heretical "Oh God"s. 

It was all deplorable and all tasteless but at least Abigail was back to kissing Harrow's mouth. That was, until Gideon started asking for "More, more!" 

Abigail pulled away to look at Harrow, brushing her black hair with her finger tips. "Oh, listen to her, she needs your help." Harrow rolled her eyes. Like hell that hulk needed her help, but Abigail was asking, and so she would help. Harrow took away some of the bone matter from the base of the pistons and moved it to the dildo, making the thing wider and getting a holler from Gideon. There. More was delivered. Harrow had come again once more in Abigail’s hands before Gideon started to moan about "needing more" again. This time, Harrow expanded the damned thing without needing prompting. It widened, and Gideon whined, and Abigail was the next to cum. She clearly felt it approaching, grabbing onto Harrow and kissing her fiercely as she orgasmed. Harrow was lucky enough to get to inhale the gasps and the moans that came out of Abigail and just for that, all the work to make Gideon's new favourite construct was worth it.

The few moments that followed Abigail's orgasm were dream like. Her head rested on Harrow's shoulder. Her breath hit Harrow's sweat coated neck and sent chills like a Ninth wind across her skin. The only thing that ruined it was Gideon complaining that it all still wasn't enough.

"Nav, your greed will be your undoing." Harrow said, a frown now prominent on her face. Gideon had such a way of ruining the mood. Abigail shifted, now fully curled next to Harrow in post coital cuddles. She propped herself up on one elbow and played circles with one of Harrows now oversensitive nipples. 

"Harrow, love, I think Gideon is hoping you will be her undoing."

Unfortunately for Harrow's pride, that sentence made her blush and her makeup had smudged off enough that the darkness of her face was visible. No way would Gideon Nav want Harrowhark Nonagesimus to do any such thing, surely. Yet when Abigail moved off of Harrow and regained her footing on her kitchen floor, Harrow could see that Gideon was in fact, watching Harrow. Pupils blown out, touching herself and breathing raggedly. The cavalier looked like an absolute, slutty mess. It was unmistakably, impossibly, incredibly, hot. 

Harrow found that she couldn't look away from Gideon's half lidded eyes, her half open mouth. "Well," Abigail started, her apron hanging haphazardly from her body, behind the near writhing Gideon. "Are you going to give the woman what she needs?" 

Harrow did, of course. But this time, it wasn't just to please Abigail. She told herself that it was only fair Gideon should also experience release. The bone magician used the remaining, non penetrative pieces of her construct to fill Gideon to near bursting. Her giant cavalier collapsed forward, arms wrapping around Harrow's shoulders, her face buried in Harrow's neck, breathing still erratic and shallow. 

"Look what an amazing adept you have, Gideon." Abigail said as she pressed the now unmoving mass of rigid bone further into the cavaliers cunt. Gideon cried out. It was a sound that Harrow could not fathom her cavalier ever producing. It could be described only as a sob of pleasure.

"Harrow." The Ninth necromancer looked up obediently when Abigail called to her. Harrow had been lost in her own confused feelings about having her cavalier felled from her own doing like this. 

"Yes?"

"Touch her please." Abigail slowly turned the dildo in Gideon and another cry emerged from the red head. "Give her what she needs."

Harrow had to maneuver Gideon up slightly so she could even reach the damn giant’s vulva. The duo’s adept almost pulled back when she felt the heat radiating from Gideon’s skin, worrying about being burnt but knowing that the human body could not possibly create so much heat... right?

Harrow searched for a moment until her fingers ran across Gideon's clit. Gideon’s attempt to hold in another cry was pitiful, frankly. The effort was completely lost once Harrow began to move her fingers back and forth over the wet skin there. It was awkward in this position, but with Abigail's help, filling Gideon more and more with the bone construct, it took very little time for Gideon to come undone. The woman rattled like an avalanche, a whole body event that, even if Harrow had not been able to feel, would still be obvious to anyone based solely on how loud Gideon was. 

Harrow’s Cavalier collapsed forward and again Harrow was pinned to the counter, this time covered in a huge mass of sweaty muscles. 

"Holly fuck." Gideon said when her lungs aloud for words.

"Very eloquent, Nav." Harrow replied without her usual dry malice. She felt nicer about this whole situation then she expected to feel. Not that she would ever admit that.

Abigail removed the construct from Gideon and placed it next to Harrow on the counter. Gideon fully relaxed into her adept while the adept in question gawked at her creation. Harrow hadn't realized how wide it had gotten. It was the width of a fist. But not a Harrow sized fist, more like a Gideon sized fist. How had that all fit? She was going to ask, for general curiosity's sake, of course, but she was rudely interrupted by the familiar sound of the oven timer ringing. 

"Ah!" Abigail said, leaving her two Ninth guests to compose themselves on her kitchen counter. "Cookies are done." She turned back, hand on the oven door, look of pity on her face. "Harrow, I know this was fun, and I hate to say, this isn't how it happened either."


End file.
